


So Strange Across the Border

by siggy



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siggy/pseuds/siggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman’s journey to, quite literally, a new life. She must leave behind all she has ever known, and be guided by someone whose dark past threatens to destroy them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Strange Across the Border

Prologue.

~oOo~

Somewhere in between  
The ticking and the tocking clock  
Somewhere in a dream between  
Sleep and waking up  
\- Kate Bush.

~oOo~

Jenny Quirke walked in the garden with all her senses fully engaged. Her fingers drifted gently over the petals of the roses, which grew in abundance and in a myriad of hues. Their fragrance added to the melee of delicious scents that wafted on the late afternoon breeze. The sun sat low in the sky. Its rays bathed everything they touched in rose and gold, but most notable of all was the music.

“It is lovely, isn’t it?”

Jenny saw a pretty, Oriental woman sitting on a stone bench by a gnarled oak tree.

“It’s wonderful,” said Jenny. It seemed a long way away but she could hear it clearly. It was so utterly beautiful; it almost broke her heart.

The woman patted the bench. “Come and sit with me.”

Jenny sat down. The stone felt cold in contrast to the warm afternoon.

“Do you see that bush over there?” The woman pointed to a shady corner by an old dry-stone wall. 

Jenny nodded. The plant looked straggly. Its roots hugged the wall, while the stems, with their vivid blue flowers, strained towards the sun.

“Look how it clings to the dark yet yearns for the light.”

“Did you plant it?” Jenny asked.

The woman gave her a sad little smile. “Yes, I wanted to place it in a more sunny location but it seemed to wilt. I think it should be out there basking in the warm sunshine, but it might take a little more time and patience. If someone had the inclination to teach it, I think it could learn to love the light.”

Jenny thought for a moment. It might have been the rather incongruous green cat, which sat on top of the wall that gave it away. “I’m dreaming and that wasn’t the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard but it’s not far off.”

“Really?” The woman grinned. “I thought I was doing rather well.”

Jenny shrugged.

“So much for my inscrutable image,” the woman said a little irritably. 

“The cat, what’s that supposed to mean?” Jenny thought she might as well go for a little dream interpretation while she was here.

The woman gazed at the cat for a moment. “I have absolutely no idea. Do you like cats?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe that’s a good enough reason for it to be here.”

Jenny suddenly felt a tugging sensation, as though there was an invisible rope tied around her waist.

“Jenny, listen to me, this is important; you must let them go. Do you understand?”

Jenny shook her head, completely baffled. “No.”

“You are going to her, Jenny. It is your reason for being. There is no avoiding it.”

“Who?” The pull stronger now.

“Take care of her, Jenny. She’s worth it”

“Your inscrutability seems pretty solid to me,” gasped Jenny. She tried to hold on to the ephemeral garden. It seemed desperately important that she understood what this strange woman was telling her. The music seemed louder and, if possible, more beautiful.”

“I hope I can remember this tune.” Jenny sighed.

The garden looked like an old, sepia tinted photograph. In the distance she faintly heard the woman.

“Jenny, you *are* the tune.”

~oOo~

Chapter One.

No.9 Jubilee Terrace  
Ely  
Cambridgeshire

The unforgivable tones of ‘The Middle of the Road’, singing their eternal classic, ‘Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep’, assaulted Jenny’s ears

“Oh, for god’s sake, Bill. Do we have to wake up to this station every morning?” Jenny felt jittery. The lingering echoes of her dream nagged at her.

“I want the local weather forecast.” 

She felt the deep rumble of his sleepy voice tickle her ear. She cracked open an eyelid and looked through the gap in the bedroom window curtains. 

“I can tell you, without the dubious benefits of 70’s classics, it’s pissing down.”

“My, aren’t you cheery this morning?”

“I’m taking thirty four hyperactive six year olds on a school trip to a whacking great big forest, where several of them will attempt to get lost, and one of them will shove an acorn irretrievably up his nose, but not before at least three of them will have thrown up everything they’ve ever eaten, for a year, over me and the bus. 

“So, I’m guessing that you’re not looking forward to it?” Bill said.

Jenny turned around and snuggled up to his warm body. “I love the little monsters but school trips are a nightmare.”

She squeaked as Bill rolled her over onto her back and climbed on top of her.

“I believe I have just the thing to relax you in preparation for a bus trip with the Spawns of Beelzebub.” He kissed her nose.

A wave of melancholy washed over her. She gently cupped her husband’s hairy cheek, his beard, soft against her palm.

“You know I love you, right?” Jenny met his eyes.

“I know.” He held her gaze for a long moment. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” She pulled his face down towards her and kissed him.

They fell into a familiar rhythm. Hands stroked and glided over well known contours. Lips touched and kissed tender flesh.

As Jenny felt him slowly push inside, she had the strangest feeling of farewell.

~oOo~

“Millie, sweetheart, you’re a genius. You’ve invented the banana facial.” Jenny grinned as she wiped the gloopy mess of her six month old baby’s face.

Millie gave a shriek of displeasure, which soon turned to giggles as Jenny blew a raspberry on her chubby but banana free cheek.

“Bill, I’ve got to run. Will you be doing any shopping later? Because we need loo roll,” Jenny said as she tossed the banana smeared baby-wipe into the bin and picked up her car keys.

“Yeah, I’ve just got to finish chapter eight then Millie and I will be hitting Tesco. “

“Okay then.” She kissed Millie on the top of her head. “You be good for Daddy.”

Bill stood up from the breakfast table and hugged her. “Have a good day and don’t let the little ankle biters grind you down.”

Jenny held on a beat too long.

Bill pulled back. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, I think I must be hormonal.” Jenny smiled at him and shrugged.

“I’d better hide all the sharp pointy things then.” He gave her a serious look.

“Funny.” She pinched his bum and skipped out of his reach.

Bill laughed and made a shooing gesture. “Get lost you. Go and enliven young minds.” 

Jenny waved at Millie and blew her husband a kiss. “I’ll see you this evening.” 

~oOo~

“Are you William Quirke?” the older of the two police officers asked.

Bill had answered the door holding a squirming, Marmite-smeared Millie. “Yes, I’m Bill Quirke. What? Is my car tax out of date?”

“Could we come in, Mr. Quirke?” the same officer asked.

Bill backed into the hallway so that the officers could enter. His stomach churned. “Look, what’s going on?”

“You need to sit down, sir.”

Bill led them into the living room. His heart pounded, almost as though he knew what they were about to tell him. Bill sat in the chair while the officers perched on the sofa, looking at him with solemn faces. The older officer cleared his throat, and Bill very nearly shouted at him not to say the words.

“I’m sorry, sir but at ten thirty this morning the coach your wife was in was hit by a heavy-goods vehicle. None of the other passengers were hurt but your wife suffered serious head injuries. I’m afraid she died at the scene.” 

Bill couldn’t seem to get enough air and he clutched a little too tightly to his daughter. She began to cry. He vaguely heard the older officer tell the younger to “Go and make a cup of tea.” Yeah, tea. His Jenny was dead and a nice cup of tea was going to make it all better.

“Are you all right, sir?” 

Bill felt the policeman’s hand on his shoulder. He shook his head and held his baby girl close to his aching chest.

~oOo~

Behenna Lodge,  
Altarnun,  
Bodmin Moor,  
Cornwall.

The knife was beautiful. Its blade, long and thin; Its haft, solid silver with filigree gold serpents. It was Erzsebet’s favourite knife, a gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. She had used it for her first kill. There had been many others since then.

The little peasant bitch, nailed to the bedchamber floor, was starting to bore her. Erzsebet had one of her headaches and the girl’s screams were not helping. She pressed the blade to the girl’s throat and looked into her frightened, pain filled eyes.

“I’m going to kill you now,” she whispered,

“No, My Lady. Please…ple…”

The blade cut through the girl’s throat and larynx, shutting her up. Erzsebet closed her eyes as warm blood flooded over her hand and its rich, sweet stench hit her nostrils. 

“Dorka!” she called to her maidservant. “Go and get some cinders to soak up this slut’s ooze.” She opened her eyes to take one last look at the girl, to savour that dewy eyed look of death. It wasn’t the servant girl she saw but Xiao Xing, lying in the pool of gore, her dark eyes fixed on her.

“Elizabeth, must you really dream about this every night?” Xing gave her a sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” Erzsebet whispered; her heart pounding. “I’m so very sorry.”

“I know you are.” Xing said, still lying in the lake of blood. “Elizabeth, It’s time to let it go. She is coming, let her in.” 

Beth jolted upright. Her eyes wide open, wild with hope that the dream was over. She saw the faded chintz curtains, the muted light beyond and flopped back down onto the pillows, gasping with relief. 

“Xing, you always did have a flair for the dramatic,” she whispered to the quiet room.

She felt clammy from the sweat cooling on her body. She took a deep, slow breath and let her mind reach out. Beth could almost feel the synapses firing at an impossible speed as her thoughts expanded. There! There she was. Xing was right. She felt the woman like you’d feel an oncoming storm. It made her skin prickle. It frightened her. 

There was a gentle knock on the door. Beth sat up as the door was opened a crack.

“Is it safe to come in?”

Beth reached for her robe. “Yeah, Maggie. Come in.”

Maggie breezed into the room. She was all child bearing hips and expansive bosom. Bedecked in Laura Ashley print and pink apron, she resembled a garden on a particularly potent acid trip. It almost hurt Beth’s tired eyes to look at her.

“Nice frock,” Beth muttered.

“You’re a horrible liar. You hate anything that’s not basic black or denim blue.” Maggie held out the cup of tea she’d been carrying. “Here, drink this.”

Beth took the cup and took a sip of the hot, strong tea. “She’s coming, Maggie,” she said, placing the cup back on the saucer.

Maggie almost bounced up and down with excitement, “Thank goodness, it’s about time.”

Beth understood Maggie’s enthusiasm. A pairing was a rare event. She, however, felt unsure and not at all ready. She would have to open herself to another person in a way she had never done before, not even with Xing. What if she was rejected? The possibility was quite real and the consequences of a rejected pairing didn’t bear thinking about.

“Beth, stop it.”

Beth looked up at Maggie’s sharp reproach. The plaster on the wall beneath the windowsill had a brand new two foot long horizontal crack. The air bristled with energy.

Beth shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re worried.” Maggie put a gentle hand on Beth’s shoulder. “I suppose you have good reason, but I feel this pairing will be a success.”

“You’re an optimist.” Beth scowled.

“Perhaps, but I know you. You have a good heart, Beth. Try to remember that.”

Beth sighed. She wasn’t so certain about her heart.

“Please don’t sit here brooding. Come downstairs, get some breakfast inside you and go and have a chat with Gordon.” Maggie smiled at her. “Anyway, the stables need mucking out, what with Danny being away.”

“Are you making porridge?” 

“If you’d like.” Maggie batted her eyelashes at Beth. “I picked some raspberries first thing…”

“I’m on my way.” Beth leapt out of bed, and headed towards the bathroom.

Maggie laughed and left Beth to her shower, which was lukewarm, as always. Beth brushed her hair, dressed herself in faded jeans and a black T-shirt then made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Have you any idea when she’s coming?” Maggie asked as she placed a steaming bowl of porridge in front of Beth.

“I can feel her.” Beth’s eyes closed for a moment. “She is so close but I can’t give you specific day or week. I just know it’s very soon.”

“It’s a long time since I felt a newborn, I envy you your connection.” Maggie poured a cup tea from a big, brown teapot. “We are so few. It will marvellous to have another one of us around the place.” 

Beth ate her porridge and felt a little better. She’d not been looking after herself very well and her energy was low. She smiled as Maggie produced a small bowl full of fat, red raspberries. 

“There you go. When you’ve finished those, take this cup of tea to Gordon. He’s in the library.”

Beth, cup of tea in hand, knocked on the thick oak door of the library. She didn’t wait for a reply, but pushed open the heavy door. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with books, apart from a large window, which looked out onto a neat lawn and flower beds. The morning sunlight lit up the billions of dust particles, which waltzed in the air. Beth loved this room, with its smell of old leather, furniture polish and musty paper. 

“Is that my cup tea you have there?”

Beth looked up to see Gordon on the top step of the rolling ladder “Yep.”

Gordon plucked a leather bound volume from the shelf and made his way down the steps. “Good morning, Elizabeth.” 

She handed him the cup and saucer. “Morning.”

Gordon looked at her for a long moment. “You have news. Come and sit with me for a while.”

She followed him over to a pair of scuffed leather armchairs, which sat in front of a fireplace, the logs crackled and burned. Gordon set his tea down on a small table between the chairs. They both sat down. The leather creaked, quietly.

Gordon took a sip of his tea. “You know, I think Xiao Xing was always a little nervous of your eventual pairing.” His pale, grey eyes held Beth.

“She had good reason to be.”

“No, my dear.” He gave her a gentle smile. “I don’t think she was nervous that it wouldn’t work, but that it would.”

Beth shrugged, she felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Gordon always had that effect on her. “I don’t understand.”

“Haven’t you always felt as though you were lacking something?”

Beth said nothing. She didn’t enjoy these little heart to hearts. She hoped Gordon would get to the point quickly.

“Xiao Xing understood that feeling all too well. You both helped each other to cope with that, but she knew, as soon as you were paired, she would lose you.”

Beth leapt to her feet. “No!” She almost growled. “I would never have left her.”

Gordon calmly took another sip of his tea. “She left you.”

All of Beth’s anger rushed out of her. She sat back down, deflated. “That was different.”

“No it wasn’t, she was meant to be paired, Elizabeth. No matter how much she loved you, and she did, very much, you never really had all of her, did you?”

Beth brushed away the tears which threatened to fall. “It was enough.”

Gordon shook his head slowly. “Not for her.”

Beth stared blankly at the dancing flames in the fireplace. “No, not for her.” 

They fell silent. The sound of territorial robins and the harsh cawing of the rooks in the tall oaks at the end of the garden permeated the still library.

Gordon reached forward and placed his hand on her knee. He gave it a gentle squeeze then sat back in his chair. “I don’t say these things to hurt you, Elizabeth.” 

Beth looked at him then. “I know.” She scrubbed her face with her hands as though to wipe away the memories. “Xing came to me in a dream. She told me it would be soon.”

Gordon sighed wistfully. “I thought it would. The air feels a little different, don’t you think?”

Beth nodded. The atmosphere vibrated a little, as though quivering in anticipation. She felt it deep inside her, a dull ache, a longing that seemed to grow more powerful with each passing day.

“Every heart sings a song, incomplete until another heart whispers back,” Gordon said, smiling. “Plato said that once. That man could be an absolute prig at times, but he had his moments.”

“You knew Plato?”

Gordon laughed. “Oh, yes. He used to brew the best ale in Athens.”

Beth sighed. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

“What of, ale?”

“Of life.”

“No, there is always something new to learn, someone new to meet. How could one ever get tired?”

Beth shrugged and stood up. “I have to muck out.” She walked to the door and opened it.

“Elizabeth?” 

She turned to look back at Gordon.

“Perhaps your life is just about to begin,” he said, quietly.

Beth nodded. “Perhaps.” 

She left him to the books and the silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: To Kristin for her invaluable beta help and advice. 
> 
> Feedback, should you wish to give it, can be sent to beeswing63@gmail.com


End file.
